


Cherry Red

by SLWalker



Series: Midnight Blue [4]
Category: Midnight Blue - Fandom, due South
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8721286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker
Summary: 1989: 'Life is simple. It's either cherry red, or midnight blue.' Mike's wedding day, and he's a basket case.





	

"Jesus, Chase. Stop pacing, you're making _me_ nervous."  
  
"I'm gonna break something, Cath. I know it."  
  
"If you keep doing laps around the room, yeah, you might."  
  
It was kind of a small room to be pacing around in, she had a point, but Mike thought that if he stopped pacing he might literally explode, so it was down to that or-- "Oh God, what if I drop the ring?" It was likely. His hands were shaking.  
  
How was it possible to apprehend fighting, flailing suspects with weapons calmly and then be a total basket case at his own _wedding_?  
  
"Well, if you drop it, you pick it up." Brett was leaning against the wall looking like something out of an old magazine cover of the RNWMP or something, broad and blond and tall and only missing his horse. Mike probably should have thought harder about inviting his rookies, because they were all going to get to see him make a spectacular idiot out of himself out there. Brett and Cathy weren't the only ones here; Brad was out there in the crowd already, so was Billy, and that didn't even count Sandy and Russ who he had to look in the face when he got back from his honeymoon--  
  
"She's gonna see how hopeless I am, and she's going to just walk down the aisle going the other way, I just know it." He gestured with both hands in a sweeping illustration of it, then went back to pacing, the shush of his congress boots on the thin carpet not nearly soothing enough.  
  
He didn't miss the way Cath and Brett exchanged a look, a good-natured eyeroll, but Mike couldn't stop himself and he was pretty sure his face was actually redder than his serge, but he didn't have the guts to look in a mirror and check right now, either. He hadn't closed the collar on his tunic because he was already having enough trouble with the not-fainting-thing and he was going to have to comb his hair again because he kept forgetting to keep his hands out of it.  
  
Cindy was probably cool as a cucumber, too. Oh, geez, she was going to realize she was marrying the most ridiculous guy west of Manitoba and--  
  
Brett stopped him by catching his shoulders and Mike froze, hands splayed out, looking at his first rook in absolute confusion. What, was he about to walk into something--?  
  
But no, Brett just steered him over to the antique bench seat Cath was sitting on and practically pushed him down, and Mike was too busy goggling over the manhandling to say anything, but after a moment he felt the thin pressure of Cathy's nails back and forth between his shoulders as she managed to scratch with enough force to make it through thick wool.  
  
"If she didn't leave you when I told her I got into your pants, Mike, she's not going to leave you for being nervous on your wedding day," Cath said, which made Brett snort a laugh before going back to lean on the wall.  
  
"Oh, _God_ ," Mike leaned forward as much as his entirely restrictive clothing would allow. He could _feel_ how red his face was. "You're so mean, Cathy, I know I didn't teach you to be that way."  
  
"Uh huh." Cath was smirking, he could hear it in her voice. "So that trick we pulled when we called--"  
  
_"No."_  
  
"Wait, wait-- what did you two do?" Brett asked, eyes lighting up and a grin stretching under his mustache.  
  
"Cath, don't you dare."  
  
He glanced over just in time to see Cathy mouth to Brett, _I'll tell you later,_ and then Mike just buried his face in his hands and groaned.  
  
He should have known this was going to be a disaster from the aforementioned pants incident the night before.  


  
  
  
_The night before..._  
  
Catherine Marie Johannsen, Constable in the RCMP, was a proud feminist.  
  
She approved of her former FTO's pick in fiancees; Cindy Mason was a tiny thing, but she had a quick grin and sharp eyes. She wasn't the least bit demure. She was established in a career, and Mike was absolutely smitten with her. Cath had gotten an earful of chatter when Mike called her to invite her to his wedding; he couldn't stop talking about her.  
  
Naturally, Cath was quick to agree to attend the wedding, but what she was going to wear was a little more difficult.  
  
After the introductions were past, after the greeting and the hugging and the restaurant wrangling, they ended up all going to dinner together and that was when Cathy successfully managed to get Mike to snort water up his nose and spend three or four minutes coughing, waving his hands in the air like a teenage cheerleader slap fight with only one participant.  
  
How she did it was surprisingly simple: "Hey, did you ever tell Cindy about that time I got into your pants?"  
  
Cindy had turned to eye the man she was going to be married to the next day, one elegant eyebrow making skyward under her bangs, and even though Cathy was cackling internally, she wasn't too surprised to see Cindy looking amused. Marrying Mike Chase _would_ require a good sense of humor, for either laughing with him or laughing _at_ him. The man himself was red and flailing and coughing; Cathy was particularly gratified by the number of other patrons who were now watching.  
  
"Oh?" Cindy asked, looking back at Cath with her eyebrow still way up, though she consolingly patted Mike on the back while he tried to get air into his lungs. "I need to hear this."  
  
"Have you ever seen what they make us wear?" Cathy asked, as Mike finally got himself under enough control to only cough here or there, panting between. It was a rhetorical question, though she was kind of glad when Cindy nodded. "Anyway, waaaay back when I was a baby Mountie, training under this joker here, I get a call, eh? I was the first ever Mountie from my hometown, which is this little place in the back-end of nowhere Nova Scotia, so they invited me back for the Canada Day parade and wanted me to wear my review order."  
  
Mike collapsed back in his chair, palming down his face and resolutely not looking at the number of people who'd watched him try to breathe in enough water to become a fish. "--God, Cathy..."  
  
"Hush, Chase, this story actually makes you look good," she answered with a grin, before looking back at Cindy, who was mirroring that grin back at her. "Anyway, I've had a problem with those stupid skirts since Depot. I wanted to be a Mountie despite them, but I did everything I could to avoid wearing that thing after. But I couldn't just turn down these people who were so proud they had their first hometown Mountie, either."  
  
Mike took over and Cathy let him, because this was good. "So, one day when I'm just back at Surrey Detachment after doing some kind of red serge function in Vancouver," he said, "Cathy sees me and I swear, Cin, you could _see_ the lightbulb going on over her head. She marches over to me while I'm talking to a few of the guys and pokes me in the chest and says--"  
  
"'Corp, I need you to take off your clothes,'" Cathy cut in, which got Mike laughing, though no less red. "I don't know why I didn't think of it before. And he fixes me with this _look_ \--"  
  
"I know that look," Cindy said, grinning broadly and with a gratifying touch of wickedness.  
  
"--I know, right? And he's so shocked that he's just gaping at me, and the guys are staring, and then damned if he doesn't start unbuckling his Sam Browne right there in the squad room, still looking like someone whacked him in the head with a pool cue."  
  
"I was in shock, Cath!"  
  
"I know, and I was taking advantage. But anyway, I think he probably would have stripped to his shorts if the Inspector hadn't walked by. I've never seen him at attention so fast in my life as I did when Inspector Davis stopped with him half out of his tunic."  
  
By now, Cindy was laughing, too. Mike buried his face in his hands, but even though Cathy was embarrassing the hell out of him, she knew he wasn't mad or mortified.  
  
"Let me guess, you let her have your pants?" Cindy asked after a moment, and Mike nodded behind the shelter of his hands, red to the tips of his ears.  
  
Cathy saluted with her own water glass. "He did. He even took his stripes and star off of his sleeves for me, so it'd be accurate. Pretty good fit, too. I had to stuff some Kleenex in the toes of his high browns, and the sleeves were a little long, but it fit well enough that the only second looks I got were from people who were wondering when they started letting the female Mounties dress like the men."  
  
"Anything for my rooks," Mike said, half-gruff and half-laugh, the tone of it long-suffering.  
  
Cathy also thought it was probably wholly the truth, and felt her own grin soften to a smile. "Best FTO in the Force."  
  
Across the table, Cindy's face also went warmer and sweeter and it was a look of pride.  
  
Cath waited a beat or two for that to sink into Mike's head, which meant that now the red face was probably bashful instead of good-naturally embarrassed. "Anyway, that brings me to a really important question: Can I get into your pants tomorrow, too?"  
  
"Yeah, why not." He threw his napkin at the table, laughing and shaking his head. "Wouldn't be the first time."  
  


  
  
  
"Hey, it looks good on you," Brett said, shrugging and flashing a grin. "Got me why they've still got you guys all gussied up like Mountie dolls."  
  
"Why, thank you. But fact is, most of your brothers are Neanderthals about it," Cathy answered back, though it was mostly without bite. Mike thought that was in deference to the fact this was his wedding day and probably not because Cath wouldn't go swinging to the mat over the still-big issue of sexism in the Force. "Present company entirely excluded."  
  
Brett gave her a salute back and was about to say something more when there was a knock on the door.  
  
"Corporal? Ten minutes."  
  
Mike felt his heart do that thing where it pinballed into his throat and hit triple score against his ribs before pounding into high gear, and he leaned on his elbows again. "Oh God, oh God, oh God--"  
  
Cathy went back to scratching at his back, which made him jump for a second, but then he was too busy trying not to faint or maybe go worship a toilet (the only worship he'd ever done in Cindy's dad's church would end up being that, how's that for irony?) to think about it, breathing quick at the floor between the polished black toes of his boots.  
  
"Look at all that red out there," Cathy said, impressed, probably looking out the window, which wasn't doing Mike's nervous system any kind of favor. "Wonder how much trouble we're going to get into over this uniform business."  
  
"Russ won't say anything," Mike managed, after a moment, though picturing the expression on Russ's face when Cath walked out there in Mike's extra tunic and his only high browns was a nice temporary reprieve from the anxiety. "He'll look at us like we're alien lifeforms, but he won't throw a fit."  
  
"He probably would need to be canonized to deal with you daily," Brett teased. "Relax, Chase, this is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. If you go out there and faint, the entire Force will know by the end of the day and you will never live it down."  
  
"The prettiest woman in town -- heck, probably all of Canada, no offense, Cath--"  
  
"--none taken."  
  
"--is willing to marry _me_." Mike didn't look up to point in Brett's general direction. "She's-- she's-- she's perfect and I am going to break something and maybe drop the ring and probably bite my tongue when we say our vows and did I mention that I'm going to _break something_? Oh God, this is gonna be a disaster."  
  
"Nah. I'll be right behind you," Brett said, stepping over and clapping Mike in the shoulder. "C'mon, Mike, you have to fix yourself up."  
  
Good thing Brett reminded him, Mike had completely forgotten. After a few more breaths, he nodded and got up again, going over to the mirror. Not quite so red anymore, but he still looked nervous. He cleared his throat and clasped the collar of his tunic, making a brief face at how tight it was, and then took his comb out and fixed his hair.  
  
Once he thought he was about as presentable as he was going to get, he turned back to his two former rookies, wringing that comb a little bit before forcing himself to put it away again. "Good?"  
  
Cath stepped over and gave him a mock-critical inspection, while Brett nodded. "Handsome," she said, firmly, reaching up to straighten one of his collar dogs a fraction. "Hey, Mike. All that red out there?" She smiled, all affection. "They're all out there for you. You'll be fine."  
  
After a moment where he actually felt his throat tighten from something that wasn't the collar of his tunic, Mike managed a nod and a steadier breath out. "Okay."  
  
Cath flashed a grin, then went to go slip out and join the audience, leaving him with his best man until it was their turn to go out there, so he could go wait at the alter for the woman he loved.  
  


  
  
Turned out they were right. He kind of stuttered at the 'I dos' and he fumbled some with the ring and his hands were sweaty, but at the end, Cindy _Chase_ was in his arms and somehow it was perfect anyway.


End file.
